To Thine Own Self
by Wolfstadt
Summary: High School AU. Nezumi, an English Literature teacher, has a chance encounter with his childhood friend, who now has a life and child of his own. Nezumi is torn between longing for what could have been, his professionalism as a teacher, or the risk of painful memories being dredged up.
1. Chapter 1: Time

**(A/N) After wanting to write a no.6 fanfiction for ages, I have finally (with the help of my sister PuffinsandPelicans) been motivated enough to officially start one! I do not own No.6, but the following is all my own work. Enjoy!**

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Time seemed to have a way of slowing down, Nezumi thought, when one was bored stiffless. He knew staring at the clock in the hall wouldn't help the seconds go by quicker- in fact, it seemed to make the little hand move round the circle slower than usual- but despite the sea of new year sevens and their doting parents in front of them, the only face he was drawn to was the clock's.

Socialising had never been his forte, so he had inwardly thanked the school for employing what had to be the most long winded, boring head teacher Nezumi had ever met. After Rikiga sensei had finished his spiel on new beginnings and how amazing our school was, it would probably be 7.30; not enough time for the promised tea and biscuits and Nezumi would get to go home without giving himself a migraine talking to insufferable parents.

He sighed and leant against the wall at the back of the hall where all the tired teachers had congregated- it seemed cruel holding the welcoming social on a school night after a trying day's work, and for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, Nezumi wondered why he became a teacher.

He had never intended to become a teacher, really. Like a lot of times in Nezumi's life, he never really knew what he wanted to do with his life when applying for university, and the only thing he seemed to be good at was English Literature. Even now, he could still remember the day when he decided to become a teacher.

He was strolling through the local library on a rainy day after school, when he came across The Happy Prince. There was only one battered, English copy sitting dejectedly on the end of the shelf, and suddenly Nezumi had been overcome with nostalgia. Because that was the book the boy liked to read, wasn't it? The one his mother read to him as a little boy, and the one that he in turn read to Nezumi. With his basic level of English Nezumi could barely read the book, but he took the book out anyway and vowed that he would finish it one day.

After studying and practising English, he finished The Happy Prince in just under two months. Acting like a domino, the only books Nezumi became interested in were those written in that beautiful language- where the words spilled over the pages like poetry. After weeks and weeks of monotonous living, Nezumi revelled in these new stories- ones that told of far off countries and worlds with lives more interesting than his could possibly ever be. These stories made the long days more bearable and the lonely nights warmer. Because Nezumi felt that he never belonged; never could relate to people, but in these stories he found friendship. Perhaps not the healthy kind, but it was definitely better than nothing.

And although he knew he could never possess the skill of turning these feelings into words - as his beloved authors did- he wished to fill his life with them. So what better way to do that then to teach the very language and the very stories that managed to make him feel things that almost nothing else could?

There was one other thing that could make Nezumi _feel_ like that, but that was something Nezumi had tried to forget.

"So thank you very much for coming this evening, it has been a pleasure to meet our new students and their guardians- I hope you enjoyed this evening as I have done and you all have safe journeys home!" The applause that ensued Rikiga sensei's speech was what snapped Nezumi out of his day dream, and he saw his guess was right- it was 7.30.

Feeling an enormous sense of relief, Nezumi mumbled a goodbye to his colleagues around him, and like the rest of the hall, began to make their way to the exit. Only a couple more meters, and he would be out the door- he quickened his pace to move past the swarm of people catching up to him.

"Ah, Nezumi-sensei, would you mind coming here for a moment?" He stopped and closed his eyes, inwardly cursing as he spun round to face the headmaster, who was stood a meter away with another man and a child. He plastered a fake smile on his face that he thought would be convincing, though if anyone were to ask Rikiga sensei, he would say it looked rather like the face of a constipated man.

"Rikiga sensei, what could I possibly help you wi-" Nezumi's usual sarcastic comment to Rikiga was cut short by who was stood smiling next him. It couldn't be, could it? Yet even as this thought passed through Nezumi's mind, he knew it wasn't true- for he had only once seen such a young person with such amazingly white hair, and such deep red eyes.

Ignoring his unfinished sentence, Rikiga put a hand on the white haired man's shoulder.

"This is Shion, my good friend Karan's son and little Tamashi here," he playfully ruffled the hair of the boy stood in front of Shion, who definitely, without a doubt, was the boy- man- Nezumi had spent so much of his time trying to forget. Suddenly the room started to get hotter, and Nezumi resisted the urge to run away as fast as he could, and begged his heart to calm down. Because really, there was no need to be stressed out. Shion would not remember him, and everything would be ok.

"Tamashi was just telling me how into English literature he was, so you must introduce him to some of your favourite works! Mac-u-beth, ham-u-let!" He stumbled over the English names and Nezumi was too shocked to correct him.

"I'm sorry, you'll have me to blame for that; I've been taking Tamashi to the theatre for as long as I can remember- it is a big hobby of mine." Shion always was the type to apologise over insignificant things, Nezumi thought almost fondly, and he knew fully well why Shion liked theatre so much, but decided against saying anything. In response to Shion's piercing eye contact, his focus became the floor.

"Well for first years we teach The Happy Prince, but it would be good to start Shakespeare early in order to get used to it for second year. I'm sure one of our drama teachers would help you with some of the plays. Excuse me, it was nice to meet you but I need to catch a train." He bowed slightly, and let himself look one last time at Shion, who met his gaze with a friendly yet curious look.

Giving no time for a reply, Nezumi turned on his heels and headed back out the now deserted hall, feeling the red hot gaze still at his back. He did not have a train to catch, and surely Rikiga would reprimand him in the morning, but he couldn't wait there a minute longer.

It was only when he had climbed into his battered car that Nezumi properly thought about what he had just seen. Shion had grown older, as had he- and was no longer just a distant memory of all those years ago. He was no longer the sweet baker's son. He was most likely married, and now had a son of his own. A son that Nezumi would probably have to teach.

He leaned back against his head rest and inhaled deeply. His image of Shion had been shattered, but to the white haired wonder he was just an English teacher at his son's new school- and he intended to keep it that way.

He assumed this was to be an easy task- but he did not know that something had stirred inside Shion when he looked into those strangely familiar grey eyes- a nostalgia that he could not place. Something that, unbeknownst to Nezumi, he would think about until he fell asleep that night.


	2. Chapter 2: Brain Teaser

**(A/N): Helloooo everyone! Can't believe I've actually managed to finish my second chapter- this is a first for me! Just a little side note (in case you didn't realise this) when the chapter is in first person, it is Shion's POV, and when it is in third person it will probably be Nezumi's POV (since the story's main protagonist is Shion). Rant over, hope you enjoy this chapter! I do not own No.6, (wish I did wahhh) but all this work is my own.**

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I didn't quite know what to make of Elsinore Middle School's English Literature teacher- granted there's not a lot you can learn in such a short conversation- but nonetheless he left me with unanswerable questions in my head. I didn't know what to make of him, so then why couldn't I stop thinking about him?

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Tamashi would study The Happy Prince; a story that was close to my heart, but was even more surprised to find out that it had originally been Nezumi-sensei's request to use it as reading material.

"Really? Nezumi-sensei? Correct me if I'm wrong but he didn't really seem the type of guy that would like a book like that…" Rikiga laughed heartily and for the third time that evening playfully slapped me on the shoulder.

"You're sharp like your mother Shion! I know what you mean, but he says it's one of his favourite books. A lot of happy memories around it or something like that." Rikiga had waved his hand vaguely as if to change the subject, so I didn't ask another question about Nezumi, despite my curiosity growing more and more each second.

Rikiga had moved on to asking about my mother, naturally, as he dotes on her like a love sick teenager. I could tell Tamashi was getting tired as he leant against my side, yawning and rubbing his eyes. I cut the conversation short and said goodbye to Rikiga, promising to pass onto my mother that he said hello.

Night had settled on Tokyo as we walked into the car park, and the air was laced with a sharp coldness. We walked across the now deserted tarmac quickly, to where my car was parked. Yawning again, Tamashi crawled into the backseat, sprawling across the seats and closing his eyes.

"I'm not going to start the car without you putting your seatbelt on Tamashi." I adjusted my rear view mirror and looked at him through it. He smiled slightly through his closed eyes and sat up straight.

"I know Shion, you don't have to tell me that. If we were to be in a crash, the chances of my death would greatly increase if I didn't wear my seatbelt. And then who would you play scrabble with?" I chuckled, knowing only Safu's son would have a reaction quite like this.

"Well I definitely couldn't play with your mother, she gets far too competitive."

"Tell me about it, remember last Christmas when we played monopoly? I thought she was going to turn the table over." I turned the ignition on and turned my head around to start reversing, only to see Tamashi leaning up against the window, eyes shut and arms wrapped around him.

Smiling, I turned the heating on and started to reverse.

"Let's get you home kiddo."

I was thankful for Tamashi falling asleep on the drive home, because it meant I had time to go over the evening's events in full detail. Or more specifically, that odd, brief encounter with Nezumi sensei. Dressed in a fitted blue suit and equally dark blue hair scraped back into a ponytail, he did look the part of the quirky English teacher, but there was something else odd about him. Perhaps it was the way he wouldn't look me in the eye for longer than three seconds, or the way his posture stiffened when he joined the conversation.

I sighed and rubbed my shoulder. I'd been around Safu too long- her neuro-biology body language reading habit was rubbing off on me. I should stick to my own field; he probably acted so weird because he was in a rush to get home. I'll be over thinking it, I'm sure.

It only took us twenty minutes to drive from the school to Safu's house, but with the only sound in the car being the traffic noises coming through the window, the roads seemed to stretch on a lot further than usual.

Waking Tamashi up when he's fallen asleep is always one the of the things I hate to do the most, but he's getting too big now for me to carry his little sleeping form in my arms up to the front door. I grabbed his bag from the seat next to him and walked him up to the front door, which opened before we reached it. Safu clearly calculated what time we would be back, for she stood there watching us before we had reached the door, with a smile on her face that means she's mentally congratulating herself for getting the timing right.

"Hey sweetie, was school ok today?" She reached down and stroked her sons head, in the oddly comforting mother role I still find to this day very much unlike her. Now she turned to me, and turned back into the Safu I know.

"Thanks for taking him tonight Shion, I'm sure it was completely unimportant and nothing useful was said?" Safu's definitely not known for her tact.

"Yeah it was good actually, I got to meet some of Tamashi's teachers. They seem nice." I felt an awkward silence creep into the air- one that probably doesn't even exist for Safu, but before the english teacher could pop into my mind again, Safu nodded her head.

"Oh, ok… Would you like to stay for tea?"

"I'm really tired to be honest. Had to do lots of number crunching today at work, so I think I'll just go back to my place and conk out." I went to turn and walked down the steps, but I felt bad when I looked at Safu's disappointed face.

"It smells really good though. I'll come over tomorrow-promise." She seemed satisfied with this, and unfolded her arms, taking the door in her hand.

"Yeah sure, I'll be home from work at 5. See you tomorrow."

She shut the door, and the warmth from her house disappeared. I ran back to the car before I got cold, and drove the last ten minutes back to my house in silence.

It was 11pm by the time I realised why Nezumi sensei has been plaguing my mind. I tried not to think about him when I showered, when I loaded the dishwasher, or when I fed Cravat- but he kept creeping into the corner of my mind, as if he was standing over me while I walked around my apartment.

When I brushed my teeth and stared in the mirror, I compared the colour of our eyes. When I unbuttoned my shirt to change into my pyjamas, I compared what we both wore. When I got into bed, I wondered if he was doing the same. By this point, I was fed up of my unwelcome visitor, and called Cravat in to sleep on the bed with me, hopeful that her presence would numb _his_.

So it was eleven o'clock, while I lay in bed stroking my purring ball of fur that it hit me, and my eyes darted open, despite being able to see nothing but darkness.

It was his eyes. His _eyes_. Of course those sharp grey eyes followed me all the way home, all the way to bed- they looked just like _hers_. That was the first thing I noticed about her, wasn't it? The way the startling monotone colour seemed to match her perfectly- void of colour but still so interesting; so intense. Those eyes that had been and gone for so long.

I felt something akin to shame for forgetting those eyes, but before I could let it settle on me, the relief of figuring out this brain teaser washed over me- letting me fall into a much needed, deep sleep. I was too tired to blame myself tonight.


	3. Chapter 3: Voice

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry this chapter took a while to upload, I've been very busy at the moment! But to make up for it, this chapter has turned out to be pretty much twice as long as the others haha! The songs mentioned in this chapter are: White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes and Katie Cruel by Agnes Obel. Thank you for following/favouriting my story so soon- and if you would like to leave a review that would be awesome :)**

**I do not own no.6 or any of its characters, but all the writing is my own, and I alone take credit for it. I hope you enjoy! **

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Sunday morning. The air is crisp- the square is starting to grow crowded with people, and the smell of freshly baked bread spreads through the house. Everything is how it should be.

Young girls skip past outside, shops take down their 'closed' signs, and pigeons gather around the old man that sits at the bench to feed them bread crumbs. Everything is perfect.

Sundays have always been my favourite day, and I love nothing more than to spend them sitting in the window of the bakery and watch the morning unfold, the same as every Sunday. I watch everyone and tick everything off in my head, as if it won't be right until I see the pigeon man, or the girls on their way to the sweet shop.

Sundays aren't my mother's favourite day- because this is the day that everyone comes to buy their bread for the week, or a piece of cake for a Sunday treat. I stay in the café all day on Sundays, but even though mum hates the business, I love it. The bustle; the company; the sheer number of people that want to buy my mother's baking. I love watching the different people that come in, and try to make them leave with a smile on their face.

This particular Sunday has the warm august sun heating the square, and through the gap in the buildings I can see the light pinks and yellows staining the blue sky. I inhale the familiar scent of flour and smile. As my mother always said, a beautiful morning makes for a beautiful day. And boy was she right on this occasion.

Like clockwork, at 9.15 our first customer arrives, Hachiro-san the post man, and mother has his loaf of bread and cinnamon doughnut ready for him before he even steps through the door. Being a little village on the outskirts of Tokyo means everybody knows everybody, and our customers are as regular and systematic as the hours on a clock. As predicted, Hachiro greets me at the doorway and walks around the counter to give my mother a hug. Hachiro's cologne brought a different scent into the warm aroma of the bakery, and it was one that reminded me of summers at the lakehouse and family reunions at Christmas.

Hachiro was my mother's cousin, and being the eighth child of the family meant I had a lot of second cousins that lived near us in Shiroku, but Hachiro and my mother were so close I saw him as though he were my uncle.

"Ah, my Sunday cinnamon doughnut; the best way to start the day." He sits down at one of the deserted tables and my mother comes around with a pot of tea. I get up to join them, but a busker setting up just outside our window grabs my attention.

"Oh, we've got J-san outside today mum, I like him." J-san was a middle aged Japanese man who had forgotten his name, so everyone called him J-san after the J like scar he has on his cheek. We got a fair few buskers that would play near the bakery, as it was in the busy square, and we didn't make them leave. I enjoyed listening to them as I worked, and J-san was my favourite.

"Ah no Shion, old Yagami-san is better, he does real Japanese music." Hachiro sprays crumbs over the table as he mumbles through his doughnut- clearly too good to put down. I smile,

"Just because J-san does modern music doesn't make it any less Japanese." I sigh and take a seat opposite my mother, who passes me a cup of steaming hot green tea. Hachiro laughs heartily, and the sound echoes through the room.

"Such a cheeky little remark for a twelve year old." He ruffles my hair playfully, and I laugh with him.

"That's always been Shion's way" now it is my mother who strokes my hair, but she does it to try and tame my huge mane back to normal. "How are the twins?"

"They are doing well, their mother took them shopping yesterday for new school uniforms- they're so messy they completely ruined them at the end of the school year! I suppose Shion hasn't had that problem?" I shake my head in response to his question.

"I thought so." He leans back and rubs his slightly protruding belly. "Karan, you should try and teach my girls a thing or two, or better yet, swap them! If Shion was my kid I think my stress levels would go down completely."

Mum looks happy but does not agree out of politeness.

"Oh no, Shion can have his faults too. Over the summer I've hardly got him out of his room he's been studying so much. That week we spent at the lake house all together is the longest I've seen him these past months without a book in his hand!"

"Ah yes, the lake house, I wish we were still there, it's so lovely around this time of year… Still, for me the problem is that my girls don't want to study at all! I don't think the family trait of industriousness really runs through our family. Shion, keep an eye on them on Monday, ok? I know it's the first day of the semester but they need to be focussing now; I've had enough of their antics."

Before I can reply that Maiko and Haruka are the tied second cleverest in my class after me, the bell rings above the door, and I jump up to serve the customer that walks in- our neighbour Mrs Yamamoto. As expected, she orders a fruit loaf and a slice of our famous cherry cake.

Like cogs in a clock, everyone moves around the village as they should, time following close behind them. At 10 o clock, Hachiro takes his bread and heads home, promising to have us round for dinner soon. At 10.15 my homeroom teacher comes in to get a French croissant on the way home from the temple on the hill. Today she gets the bacon, ham and tomato one- the recipe of which was taught to my mother many years ago when she studied catering in France.

And at 10.30, after a long time setting up, J-san begins to play. His fingers are old and weak so he only plays soft songs with a slow tempo, which is extremely fitting for the slow Sunday morning. He usually plays American folk songs, which makes him a town favourite- the foreign words that seem to slip off his tongue are intriguing and mysterious. I don't know much English so I don't really understand the words he sings, but they sound beautiful nevertheless. Mother listens to almost nothing but classical music, so I relish in hearing something different every weekend when I'm not at school.

I open the window next to the counter to hear him better, and welcome the fresh air on my face. Immediately the soft but precise chords float in on the breeze, and I recognise the lovely dulcet tones as the folk song J-san always plays first- one that is so old the lyrics are forgotten to time.

By 11 o clock we have had five more customers, two of whom now sit drinking coffees in the café section of the bakery, tucked in by the window. That's where I sometimes have my breakfast- when I want to watch the morning unfold. The window behind me is still open and J-san's songs have picked up considerably. I always feel you can sense his mood through how much money he has collected in the day- the more money, the more upbeat his songs.

He starts to play a song that he rarely plays anymore- but is one of my favourites. He told me once it was called White Winter Hymnal, but the band I cannot remember anymore, it had a funny English name, something to do with foxes? His rough voice strains to hit the high notes, but the huskiness gives it a raw feeling. I like it, and start to hum along as I help serve the lady in front of me.

It is at half eleven when J-san gets my full attention. I am handing over a bag of cookies to my mother for a mother and daughter, when a different note tumbles through the window and hits me. My mother takes the bag from my paralysed fingers but is in too much of a rush to see me continue to stand there, motionless. I can still hear J-san's rough vocals singing an undertone, but this new note, as smooth as velvet compared to J-sans, floats above it in perfect harmony.

The note is unlike anything I have ever heard before, and it takes a few seconds for me to place the sound- it is a voice. A voice whose tone and pitch are so perfect and flawless that I run to the window, following the sound in an attempt to see its source. They must have been singing for some time but I just hadn't noticed it, because what I am greeted with, is a swarm of people gathering around where J-san had been stood- clearly wanting to get closer to this voice as I do.

Frustrated, I walk around to another window, only to see the same thing. An old woman sitting with her friend calls to me and asks what the racket is outside, but I ignore her. I try and place the song in my head to give me a clue who the singer is. J-san likes folk songs, Yagami-san likes traditional Japanese songs, and Susumu plays Japanese pop music. The song is beautifully sung but I can't understand many of the lyrics, as they are in English. I try and pick some up, but the song is unfamiliar to me.

"when I first came down, they brought me drinks of plenty…"

My mother calls out to me, and I try and tear myself away from the window, knowing I must look like a little kid looking in at a sweet shop. A queue is forming fast and my mother needs my help so I hurry back to the counter, hoping that whoever is singing will not stop until I am done.

"now they've changed their tune, every bottle's empty…"

I push the cakes into the boxes a little too quickly, and squish the bread into bags a little too harshly, but I don't care- I need to hear that voice- I need to _see_ that voice. I steal a glance out of the window again and see that the crowd is growing ever bigger. My heart starts to speed up. Finally the queue has gone, and without a word I run out of the bakery into the square.

But when I see the voice- see _her_- I stop dead in my tracks. Her long brown hair is flung loosely over one shoulder, and her white dress stops a little above the ground. She looks young- young enough to be my age- but her voice has so much feeling in it she seems wise beyond her years.

"straightway down the ro-" Then the sound is shattered as I stand there in amazement, by a rough hand grabbing onto the girl, stopping the sound cruelly. I don't even know the girl, yet my feet propel me forwards until I am stood but a metre in front of her- pushing past people as I go. The captor is the towns most hated policeman, Katashi-san, who is demanding to see her busking licence in a voice so harsh it sounds like nails on a blackboard compared to the sweet song just before.

"What? No- I-I don't have-"

"You'll have to pay a fine then! It's against the law to busk without a licence, ignorant girl!"

The crowd begins to disperse, but some hang back, concerned over what to do. Before I can even think about what I am doing, I step forward before anyone else can.

"Hey, get your hands off her Katashi!" He looks up at me angrily, and I try and swallow the fear that is building up inside of me. He once threatened to arrest me when I was ten because I dropped my ice cream in the park.

"She…she's my…er…she's my foreign exchange student!" The girl looks at me in disbelief.

"Yeah, she's from, er…France! And, and…they don't have busking laws there so she didn't know! I'm very sorry Katashi-san, I'll make sure she doesn't do it again. I promise."

"W-well…. Please ensure that she doesn't." With that, the grip on her arm loosens, and I take this opportunity to take her hand and walk her back into the bakery, making sure to say very loudly how my mother was wondering where she had got to.

Once we are in the bakery I shut the door firmly and turn to face her. I open my mouth, but she beats me to it.

"Why…why did you do that?" Her voice sounds a lot deeper and darker now that she is not singing.

"Sorry! I'm sorry, I…I just know how bad tempered Katashi-san gets and your song was so lovely I didn't want you to get in trouble…I suppose you will have lost a bit of money from me taking you away." I put a hand through my hair when I realise I must have messed things up for her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you were busking weren't you?" She looks at me with a confused expression, although I can barely see her eyes through her long hanging fringe. Before she can say anything else, my mother walks over to us from behind the counter. It is only now that I realise we are the only three people in the bakery. I guess the old lady and her friend must have left.

"Shion, why did you run outside like that?" As if she only just realises the girl is with me, she bends down and smiles at her.

"Oh, are you one of Shion's friends from school? I'm Karan, Shion's mum. What's your name?" She smiles and puts out her hand. The girl flinches back as if my mother had just hit her. I feel protective of her, for some unknown reason, and take her hand.

"Yes, yes she is. Can we have some cake mum? Cherry cake please?"

"Oh, sure." She straightens up, confused but somewhat understanding, and walks towards the back of the bakery.

I sit her down at my table at the window, and for a long, long time she stares at her hands. I can't think of what to say. Mum leaves the cherry cake in front of us and says she'll leave us in peace. I can just imagine all of the questions she's going to ask once the girl leaves.

After another long minute of staring, I coax her into eating a bit of the cake.

"So, what's your name? I'm Shion, by the way." Silence answers me. Then a faint mumble escapes her lips. I ask her to repeat what she said.

"This is good cake."

After a shaky start, I realise the girl will talk to me, just not about anything personal. I move the topic onto music, one I'm sure she'll appreciate.

"You have a really nice voice- so much better than J-san's. What is the song you sung? It was in English wasn't it? I didn't understand much…do you speak English?" The girl laughs under her breath.

"You sure ask a lot of questions Shion. But yes, I can speak English…not a lot, but I know the basics."

"Oh, I see. Are your parents English then?" She looks up at me then, finally looks straight into my eyes and my breath stops for a second. I don't know what I was expecting, but what I see are shockingly grey eyes- flecked with white, so her stare is so piercing I feel as though I am looking into the moon.

"I don't know." As quick as her answer, her eyes drop down again, to the plate that she is scraping clean with her fork. She clearly liked the cake.

"So, uh," I try to regain my composure. Her answer baffles me, what does she mean she doesn't know? Those eyes are so intimidating though, I daren't ask any further. "What was that song you were singing?"

"Katie Cruel. It's an old American song. My neighbour used to play it so loud out of his stereo player, I could hear it in the garden, and I eventually just learnt the lyrics. Did you like it?"

"Yes- God… yes -it was beautiful! I…I've never heard anything like it." She smiles, and I spend the next hour trying to think of things to say that will make her lips curl upwards and her head tilt up so I can see those eyes. But alas, she keeps her eyes hidden till the very end.

It's 12.30 when she looks up at the clock, and startles. I look up too, and am somewhat surprised that time has been moving at all. I could have sworn I had only spent but a moment with her, yet here I am two hours later. I don't understand why she needs to hurry off, but then again I don't understand a lot about this girl. We get up, and she mumbles a thank you under her breath.

I walk her to the door, and she is like a caged wild animal anxious to get out. I almost think that she will run as soon as I open the door, so I am reluctant to pull down the handle. When I do, she steps out into the square, but falters. I simply stare dumfounded at her, waiting for her figure to get smaller and smaller in the distance, but instead she turns around.

"It's Eve, by the way."

"What?" I look at the mystery girl with the mystery eyes, which have me transfixed. "What's Eve?"

"My name."

And with that, she is gone- like the seconds on a clock.


	4. Chapter 4: Decisions

**Hi there! Sorry for the delay with chapter four, my week has been craaazy busy. To my first reviewer JMarieAllenPoe- firstly thank you for your review! And to answer your questions, I cannot yet say if they are the same person or what Safu & Shion's relationship is...I deliberately made it really vague haha (sorry)! Hopefully if you all read carefully you will find out a little more :) But don't worry, I won't leave you in suspense for too long ;) (and I'm sure some of you might figure it out before then!) I'd like to shout out to NightOfTheWriters- thanks for checking my story out and I'm glad you're enjoying it! And to IsTooLazyIsLogon- thank you as well, and I'm sorry about the confusion concerning the hate review- I hope my sister has got that all sorted with you! Right, enough ramblings. Let chapter four commence...**

* * *

There was still twenty minutes left of first period to go when Nezumi had to restrain himself from shouting at his students. He always tried to avoid teaching year sevens, because they never seemed to take his lessons seriously. English literature was one of those subjects, in Nezumi's opinion, that children had to enjoy if they were to succeed properly in it. So the year sevens, who were obligated to do the lesson, were often the source of migraines and stress for Nezumi.

This year had been slightly better than others, because some children knew of Nezumi's temper through older siblings, and others seemed to actually take an interest in this subject. This did not mean there were no interruptions, as proven by a boy sitting at the back of the class- who suddenly decided to imitate the swallow in The Happy Prince and flap around the classroom. This was the cause of Nezumi needing to hold back his anger, as he was reminded recently that when he shouts, it can be so loud that the classroom below can hear him.

Instead, Nezumi calmly but sternly told the child that if he continued, he would immediately be put in detention. This seemed to scare the child, as he slunk back into his seat, body tensed and rigid. The now silent classroom gave Nezumi time to breathe, and focus on the other person that was sending his stress levels sky high. Tamashi. Nezumi knew there was no valid reason to hate the boy - in fact he was a model student. He came well prepared to every lesson; he sat quietly and attentively and listened to Nezumi's every word, and even volunteered to read aloud when no one else did.

Yes, Nezumi realised that there was no logical reason to hate this well behaved boy, yet he found his presence unnerving and stressful. He tried hard not to stare at him too much during lessons and get distracted, but time and time again Nezumi found his eyes wandering back to the boy sitting at the front- the one who looked so little like his father, and instead had all the prominent features of his mother- dark hair and big brown eyes. He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Now that that's all sorted, I'd like you all now to look back to page four of your Japanese versions. Now before we go any further can anyone suggest why the prince is weeping? Kiyomi, perhaps?" he picked on one of the girls he suspected was soon to be the 'queen' of the year- who was clearly paying more attention to the boy next to her then the book on her table. As expected, she looked flustered.

"I…er, I don't really…er…" she blushed and some children giggled childishly.

"Well then next time, focus on the book rather than your neighbour and you'll know the answer." She blushed even harder and picked up her book to cover her face. Nezumi thought it served her right.

"Sir?" The voice hit Nezumi like a slap, and he tried his best not to have a grimace on his face when he turned to his 'star' pupil.

"Yes Tamashi? Do you have an answer for us?"

"Um, yeah…could it be that he's crying because he is surrounded by poverty and suffering and can do nothing about it?" Nezumi cursed inwardly that the answer was right. Shion had clearly read this story to him before.

"Yes Tamashi, well done. You see when the happy prince was alive, he lived a life with no sorrow, in a walled palace surrounded by beauty. But when he became the statue, from his height on the column he could now see all the ugliness in the world. So naturally, he wept at what he saw." Nezumi began writing on the whiteboard in front of his, allowing himself to scowl now that no one could see him.

"Ugh, what a nerd. Always sucking up to the teacher." Kiyomi had regained her dignity and muttered under her breath, but loud enough so the whole class could hear. Nezumi, however, was too absorbed in his thoughts to realise this, unlike Tamashi, who heard the words clear as day, as he painfully did most lessons of the day.

Once again Nezumi told the class to shut up, and thankfully the class was pretty much silent from then onwards. After what seemed like a lifetime, the bell rang for the end of class, and Nezumi sunk into his chair at the desk, hearing the shrill bell as a saviour. The class poured out quickly, as if they could not bear to be in the same room as the scary English teacher a second longer, all except Tamshi, who hovered at his desk as if he was unsure whether to say something or not. Nezumi pointedly did not look at him in the hopes he would go away, and instead became engrossed in a particularly interesting essay on Hamlet. To Nezumi's delight, Tamashi crept out of the classroom, without uttering a word.

* * *

Nezumi walked into the staffroom in a slightly better mood than that morning, since it was his second favourite part of the day after hometime- lunchtime. As usual he had got there early, and was first in line for the coffee machine, which lay in a clean and untouched condition. 'Perfect' is what Nezumi would have called it.

Again, like usual, Nezumi had just filled up his cup of coffee-he liked it black- when his co-worker and possibly only friend in the school walked in.

"Ah Inukashi, you stink of fish! What's wrong with you? Take off your lab coat before you come to lunch." Being a biology teacher, Inukashi dealt with stinking dead organisms on a daily basis, but he was also forgetful, which lead to all manners of chaos.

"Oops, I forgot. I just finished dissecting fish with my year nine's." He shrugged off his coat and lay it down sloppily on the sofa next to him, "I've been around it so long I can't smell it anymore."

"Trust me, you do not want to. It's putting me off my lunch." Nezumi wrinkled his nose as he scrabbled around in the staff fridge, trying to find his sandwich. Inukashi laughed.

"I hope you're not having tuna today then." Nezumi straightened up at this, and threw something at Inukashi. Startled, Inukashi stared at the parcel in his hands,

"What's this?"

"Your lunch. It's my tuna sandwich. I'm having yours." Nezumi carried on looking in the fridge for Inukashi's bento.

"What? Why? That's not fair!"

"You put me off my lunch. So now it's yours." After scrunching up his face a few times, Inukashi gave in and opened up his sandwich.

"Oh well, things made by you are always so much tastier. When are you going to make me that amazing spaghetti dish again? It tastes so good." Nezumi sighed and sat down heavily on the sofa opposite his friend.

"I don't know, I'm living on ready meals at the moment, my workload has become pretty heavy."

"What, just from your new year seven group?" Inukashi managed to spray a good percentage of his tuna filling onto the floor as he mumbled through his sandwich.

"Yeah, a few of the kids are really smart so I've had to give them extra extension work. Rikiga's idea, of course. But there's just one kid that really irritates me- you know he gave me a five page long essay the other day, when the question was just 'what is the synopsis of The Happy Prince?' Everyone else wrote a few paragraphs at most." Inukashi laughed at this, spraying more filling onto the floor. Nezumi cracked open his bento, to see a messily organised array of sushi- though he expected nothing less from Inukashi.

"Oh, that sucks. What's his name? I'm so pleased I don't have to teach year sevens this year, they're such a pain in my ass."

"Lucky for some. His name's Tamashi."

"Oh, is that the one that was with Rikiga on the opening ceremony? With the man who has the crazy white hair…Shion or something?" Nezumi's chest seized up painfully and it was hard not to give a reaction to the mere sound of his name, but he just about managed.

"Yeah…something like that." Thankfully, Nezumi did not have to try and change the subject, as another science teacher walked in- and started shouting at Inukashi for leaving a rotting sheep's lung in the chemistry fridge- so did it for him. Nezumi quietly went back to eating his lunch, and hoped that would be the last time his friend ever mentioned the white haired wonder.

* * *

Nezumi didn't have any more lessons that afternoon, so had sat down in the vacated classroom to get on with some marking at the end of lunch. Inukashi called him a nerd for doing this, but Nezumi liked to get it all done at school- he hated having to mark his work at home. Despite him clearly being busy marking a mountain of year 12 essays, he was interrupted by someone pulling open the door. This in itself made Nezumi irritated, but when he looked up to see who was at the door, he had to clench his jaw in order to not scowl.

"Oh, Tamashi…what do you want?" The kid cowered somewhat at the door at this address, but seemed to gather some inner courage as he straightened up, and walked over to the desk.

"Nezumi-sensei, I hope I'm not bothering you. I can come back some other time if that is more convenient." Nezumi leant back and put his feet up on the end of the desk-something he was berated for constantly by Rikiga.

"No, it's fine. I'm already distracted now so you might as well get on with it. What do you need, kid?"

At this Tamashi began to get flustered, and stuttered his way through his sentence.

"W-well, I was wondering…that is if you…I mean…"

"Kid, I'm not going to bite you, so you can stop looking so scared." Nezumi knew he was feared by some students, but the extent to which Tamashi was stuttering slightly amused him. Was he really that scary? He supposed he might need to turn down the hostility in lessons a bit…maybe.

"I'm sorry, sensei!" Tamashi took a deep breath, "what I wanted to ask was….do you do any out of school tutoring?" Now this surprised Nezumi. He was even made speechless for a few seconds.

"What do you mean…? For extra English Literature tuition?"

"No, no that's not what I meant, sorry. I just wanted some English tuition, you know, to learn the language better. I know Misaki-sensei is technically my English teacher, but to be honest…" Tamshi now leant over the desk a bit to whisper, as if the walls could be listening,

"I don't think she's very good." Nezumi almost smiled, as he completely agreed with Tamashi on that and had done for years.

"Ok, but why me?"

"Because you speak English so well and you're a really good teacher sensei, and I would pay you for your time and I'm really sorry sensei I'll leave now, sorry for wasting your time." Tamashi mumbled his words so fast Nezumi almost didn't catch them; that is until Tamashi had started to walk away.

"Hey kid, wait, I didn't say no, did I?" Tamashi stopped and slowly walked back, a slight blush on his cheeks. He didn't say anything, so Nezumi carried on.

"Did your parents tell you to ask me? Are they ok with you getting a tutor?" Tamashi nodded vigorously and bit his lip. So Shion had asked for him. This fact meant that he didn't remember who Nezumi was, and would never make the connection…this both saddened yet relieved him.

This entire situation completely threw Nezumi. His mind was filled with conflicted feelings. If he agreed to this, it would most probably become a slow drawn out torture as the frequent presence of Tamashi would become a constant reminder of Shion, not to mention the extra work and stress that would be piled onto his already busy schedule.

On the other hand, he supposed there was the money- and more importantly, if he was tutoring Tamashi, that would give him the perfect way to find out more Shion- despite the anxiety it caused him, his curiosity for the man was overwhelming.

He had to decide quick- Tamashi's face was being stripped of all hope as each moment passed with Nezumi staring blankly at the wall, unaware of the internal battle he was having. What to do? Welcome him into his life? Or lock that door forever…?

In that moment, Nezumi decided. Shion was possibly one of the best things that happened to Nezumi, and he wasn't ready to let that go yet. He should take this chance, no matter what might happen down the road; no matter how much it might hurt later.

"Ok, I'll tutor you. But I can only do a Thursday after school at four o clock, so you'd better be here on time every Thursday and ready to work. We'll do it in this room. Is that ok for you?"

Tamashi grinned and nodded his head again,

"Yes, thank you so much sensei, that would be great. Thank you!" He bowed far more times than was necessary and Nezumi felt himself getting annoyed again. The bell rang in the hallway signalling the end of lunch, so Nezumi told Tamashi to get to his next lesson.

"I'll see you tomorrow Tamashi." The child stopped at the door and grinned again,

"Yes, see you tomorrow sensei, thank you so much for your help!" The door shut, and Nezumi's head fell back as he sighed. He hoped to God that he had made the right decision.


	5. Chapter 5: Rain

**Hello everyone! I can't quite believe I've got to chapter five already... I'm usually very bad at continuing my stories...but with all your support I'm finding lots of motivation for this one, so thank you everyone for following/favouriting/reviewing :) This one took a while to write because all my friends have come home for Christmas so I've had a very busy week! I hope the wait has been worth it though, and the next chapter will see the plot starting to pick up again so that's something to look forward to! I'll try my very very hardest to update before the 25th as a little Christmas gift to you all, but if I'm not able, then I hope you all have lovely Christmases! **

**As always I do not own no.6 or the characters but the work is all my own, so do not plagiarise :)**

**Enjoy x**

* * *

I wasn't often late for work, but I guess this morning I had slept straight through my alarm, as when I awoke, I was greeted with sunlight pouring through the cracks in my curtains. I only had a second to take in this moment of peace and quiet, before I looked at my alarm clock and realised with a sense of dread that I was an hour late for work. Crap.

I rushed about as quickly as I could, grabbing my coat and running down the hall. I looked a mess- with my shirt only half buttoned and my hair flying out at all angles, but I had some bacteria cultures left in the lab heater and if I left them in there for too long then I would have to start the whole 24 hour process again.

Riding the train on an empty stomach is not one of my most desired situations, as I often get stares and funny looks from people when my stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud. I was just glad I didn't have to take Tamashi to school today and could get the direct train to the university. It also gave me time to think, and calm down from the rush of getting ready.

I looked at my watch and sighed, hoping that I could sneak in without anyone noticing I was late. I only work in the labs though, so no-one would really notice, no-one except my damn bacteria cultures.

It was definitely because of the dream I had last night. I hadn't dreamt about Eve for a long time now, so I was surprised when I woke up. It was a pretty intense dream, judging by the fact of not being able to wake up when my alarm went off. I tried not to think about her much or wonder where she is now, because as I have told myself many times- thinking does nothing. It's not going to bring her back, and it's not going to tell me why she left in the first place. I used to think it was my fault that she left, and even after years of speculating, I still don't know. Why had I even been thinking about her?

It took me quite a few minutes to remember the opening ceremony the night before, but suddenly I found the culprit for this chaos. Nezumi-sensei, that English teacher. He had eyes just like hers- clouds of grey and white. I never thought I would see anyone with those eyes again.

I groaned; remembering Nezumi made me remember Eve, so if I was to forget and move on then I had to put both of them out of my head. However, as yesterday proved, this wasn't really easy to do. Thankfully though, a buzzing in my pocket successfully distracted me, which turned out to be Safu calling me on my phone.

"Hey Shion, where are you? I've looked in your lab but you weren't there. I need to go over the experiment I'm doing with you tomorrow." Although Safu and I didn't technically work together- her being a lecturer teaching neuroscience and me being part of the research team at the university- she often came to me to help set up experiments for her students.

"Ahh about that…I'm kind of running late…" I ran my fingers through the back of my hair and waited for her signature tutting that she did whenever I did something stupid- though today it seemed she was in a good mood.

"Oh right, ok, well just give me a call when you get here and I'll talk to you then. Is it still ok for Tamashi to go round to yours tonight? I won't be leaving here until seven."

"Yeah sure, I'm finishing early so I'll go straight to school to collect him."

"Ok thanks. Oh, and Shion?"

"Yeah?"

"Try and be on time from now on- it's not very professional to be late." She hung up then, and smiling somewhat, I put the phone back in my pocket, shaking my head.

* * *

I usually felt enormously tired after a long day at work, but today I just felt relieved. I had been dreading my bacteria experiment all week, but today it had just served as a very good distraction from the thoughts floating around my head. I also hadn't broken any equipment in it- which was an added bonus.

Keeping busy was really the only way I could forget about Eve altogether- it had worked well all those years ago. So, as soon as I was home I started to get ready for Tamashi coming over. He stayed at my flat at an average of one to two nights a week, so I didn't really need to prepare for him, but I had promised that I would take him to dinner when he came home with his first high school A report card.

As expected, he got his first A on the second day of school- which was two weeks ago- so his reward was long overdue. Not surprisingly, it had been for biology, but he was probably top of the class in most of his subjects, apart from P.E… but that was to be expected from Safu's child- who could barely _pick up_ a tennis racket without injuring someone, let alone play with it.

I welcomed the warm water sliding down my cold body, and washed away the griminess I felt after a long day of handling bacteria. I tried to keep my thoughts on what I would be eating tonight. I scrubbed over the birth mark that wrapped around my body like a snake and wished- for probably the 100th time in my life- that I didn't have it. The doctor didn't know why I was born with such an odd birth mark, but I was more interested in how I could get rid of it.

It had always been a source of embarrassment when I changed for P.E. at school, or when I went swimming. Children, as cruel as they are, would often point and laugh, and my poor mother used to always try and cover my neck where it was worst, as people used to think I had got it by trying to hang myself. This led to rumours of me having a terrible home situation, and I even heard once that people were entertaining the idea that my mother had inflicted those marks on me. That was back when I was younger though, when we lived in the city and my mother had no friends. We soon moved out to Shiroku after that, when I was nine- where we were welcomed much more by her large family and the village's residents. I used to think she moved because of me, because although she has come to love it there, I know a large part of her still misses the city.

The water began to run cold as I stood there lost in thought, so I got out quickly and grabbed a towel. I still had an hour to go before I had to go collect Tamashi, so I relished the feeling of being completely clean and lay down on the bed, not caring that my wet hair would probably soak through the sheets. Cravat jumped onto the bed with me, and I absentmindedly stroked her as I stared up at the ceiling.

Apart from Cravat's slight purring, a silence and stillness settled over my apartment, and I hated it. Sure I like my alone time now and again, but the…nothingness unnerved me. I liked to have people around me- just having them there was a comfort. I sighed as I got up, and walked into the living room to put the TV on- something that would break the silence. I turned on some random drama and walked back into the bedroom; the distant chatter making me feel better. But now my wet hair was making me shiver, so I ignored Cravat's meows for attention and started to get dressed.

We were going to one of the more expensive restaurants tonight, so I had instructed Tamashi to change into some nice clothes after school and I attempted to do the same. But the problem was, I looked like a little kid dressing up in their fathers clothes. Although my shirt and jacket fit me well, I felt too formal and downright silly in a suit- but I wanted to make an effort. Safu never did things like this with Tamashi- she expected him to get good results so she never really rewarded him for them.

So tonight I wanted to make an exception and treat him to dinner at a fancy restaurant. This may have been influenced by a similar dinner I had back in primary school…though the restaurant wasn't as fancy and it was for my performance in Romeo and Juilet- not my grades. And most importantly, _she_ had been there too.

No. I shook my head. Not tonight. This dinner was for Tamashi, and I couldn't ruin it by comparing it with the one I had with her. It wouldn't be fair. I closed my eyes for a moment- trying to dismiss my thoughts, and when I was ready, grabbed my keys and headed out the door. I had forgotten her once, I could do it again.

* * *

"I'll have the yakisoba please. With extra carrots on the side. Thank you."

"Someone's hungry." I teased, handing back our menus to the waiter. In return, we were handed warm towels to clean our hands on.

"Well I had science club at lunch, then I err…. I had some homework to do so I didn't get to eat any lunch." Tamashi looked down at the table, almost guiltily.

"Aw, you should have said so; I would have brought you a snack when I picked you up."

"Oh no, it's ok, I'm fine now." He took a sip of his coke and leaned back in his chair. As I requested, Tamashi had changed out of his school uniform after we dumped his stuff at my apartment, and now sat before me in a blue and white striped shirt. It looked a little too big on him but it was endearing.

"So, how was school anyway? What lessons did you have?"

"I had maths first, which was ok. I sit near my friend Ritsu so that's good. Then I had er…English Literature with Nezumi-sensei, then-"

"Oh, Nezumi…so what's he like as a teacher?" I interrupted him unintentionally, and hoped he wouldn't think I was taking a special interest in this teacher…which I wasn't. I was just…curious.

"He's good. Like really, really good. He's amazing at English, I think he said he has English relatives or something? We're doing The Happy Prince right now." Tamashi fiddled with his straw, looking down at the table.

"Oh, that's great, I bet you're really far ahead compared to everyone else then!" I paused,

"But, is he as nice as your other teachers?" Tamahi raised an eyebrow at me, but was distracted when our waiter arrived, placing steaming hot plates of food in front of us. I held my gaze with Tamashi to make sure he would not drop the conversation.

"Yeah he's fine…I mean, he can get quite grumpy, and I don't think I've ever seen him smile, but he's not as bad as some of my other teachers. He does scare me a little though…." And as if he couldn't think of anything else to say, he held his hands together and murmured 'itadakimasu'- before tucking into his yakisoba.

I thought about this as I began eating; appreciating the comfortable silence that hung over us both. That was the first difference between Eve and Nezumi- Eve had been quiet and reserved, but I couldn't count on my fingers the number of times I had seen her smile at me. This was probably a good thing- as my curiosities would stop now. Eve would stay as she was, a distant memory lodged in my past, and I would forget all about Nezumi.

I took my glass of wine in hand, and took a long gulp. I hoped it would be that easy.

Outside, rain was beginning to slap the pavement, and faraway flashes of lightning nestled in between the sparkling Tokyo skyline.

After the awkward conversation about Nezumi, we talked about more comfortable subjects for the both of us- such as what he was doing in biology, and whether or not I would go and see the English travelling Shakespeare company's performance of Romeo and Juliet in the Bungakuza Atelier theatre next month, which of course I said yes to. There are many things I cling to from my childhood, but the theatre was decidedly the biggest. I was a regular at the theatre, and could never get enough of the atmosphere- or of the beautiful building itself.

I'd passed on a lot of my love and knowledge to Tamashi, much to Safu's annoyance. She seemed to think that anything non-scientific was almost a waste of time to pursue, but since she knew how much it meant to me, she let it go. I kept her at arm's length from it; although she knew it meant a lot to me, she didn't know _why_. And that made forgetting Eve easier.

Despite the urgent nagging of the girl in the back of my head, I enjoyed dinner with Tamashi and left the restaurant with him in a much better mood than before. We spent the car ride home discussing which portrayal of Hamlet we had liked the most over the years of watching it pass through the town's theatre, and it was nice not to talk about work, or school, or the depressingly slow sludge of life. The movement of the windscreen wipers lulled me into a soothing calmness and I found myself hoping to catch every red light on the way home.

This elated feeling did not last long as we returned to my apartment however, and the smile was quickly wiped off my face when I saw that Cravat had not enjoyed the moody sky as much as I had, and had urinated in fear all over the sofa. I smacked my forehead and groaned, and Cravat- who was ignoring the potent smell of urine- acted as though nothing had happened and rubbed herself up against my legs.

"Shit…I mean er…it looks like we won't be using the sofa bed tonight." I ran straight to the kitchen in the hope of salvaging the sofa by trying to wipe it off, but it had long since soaked into the cushions.

"Sorry Tamashi, but you can't sleep here…" I lifted up a soaked cushion and almost retched the smell.

"God that is disgusting." Tamashi held his nose in silent agreement.

"I guess you'll have to share my bed then." I smiled briefly, "Just like when you were little and scared of the dark- though I'm assuming you don't need your 'blanky' anymore…"

Tamashi rolled his eyes, "As if- that was back when I was five or something. I know now that the shadows in the dark simply appear to move because our rod cell's pick up fewer wavelengths of lights than cone cells. Which obviously means that it's our eyes poor visual acuity causing the shadows to move, not a boogieman." I digested this and laughed.

"Obviously! Gosh, you have been paying attention in class haven't you?"

"Oh, we haven't been taught that yet. I just researched it for fun." I shook my head in amusement, seeing so much of Safu in him right now. Of course he would find that kind of thing fun. I just hoped the other kids at school didn't find it weird- he'd had a tough time of it at primary school with bullying.

"But anyway, that's fine. Your bed is a lot comfier, to be honest. I'm tired though, so can we go to sleep soon?"

"Sure." I abandoned my idea of working until I conked out- because having another person in the room made it a lot easier to fall asleep- so I needn't waste time tiring myself out. Because when I can hear the gentle rhythm of breathing beside me, it acts as a hypnosis and lulls me to sleep.

It didn't work as well tonight though, as even though I was falling into the depths of sleep, I became stuck in a limbo where my mind lay frantically awake. I looked over at the small sleeping form next to me and sighed- it was going to be a long night. And long nights always allow long thoughts of those we are trying to forget. It didn't help that Tamashi's breathing was so quiet- if I didn't know any better I would have thought he was dead. So I lay there, cursing my ever active brain and turned over; wishing away the silence, and hoping- desperately- to get some sleep.


End file.
